


The Deafening Silence

by runningscissors



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, References to the Master (Doctor Who), Tenth Doctor Era, The Master's Drums (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24511618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningscissors/pseuds/runningscissors
Summary: "Somewhere in him, he knows this isn’t real, that it’s his subconscious mind playing with him as he drifts into his REM cycle. But all the same, he’ll savour it."The Master haunts the Doctor even in his dreams.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	The Deafening Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2011 for then-theres-us @ livejournal. Unspecified timeline but references to S3.

The softest brush against his jaw and a grin stretches across his lips long before he finally opens his eyes to find her smiling face. 

“Hello,” she says softly, fingers tumbling through the fringe against his forehead now. “Happy dreams, I hope?” 

“Only thinking,” he mumbles, turning his head to look at her properly. There are sharp shadows cast along her cheek from the dim glow of the room.

“About what?”

Somewhere in him, he knows this isn’t real, that it’s his subconscious mind playing with him as he drifts into his REM cycle. But all the same, he’ll savour it. It’s so achingly familiar that it could easily feel like a memory anyway. It’s not the first time Rose has found him sprawled out across a couch in the study.

 _You,_ his head rumbles, and he feels a tug deep within him. _It’s always you, it seems_. “Oh, you know,” he smirks, taking in the warmth of her eyes. “This and that.”  
  
Of all the wonders and horrors he’s seen, he dreams about mundane things in life these days. These small glimmering moments where the universe lies still, and he can simply be. 

Her fingers glide against his jaw again, and his eyes slide shut for just the briefest of moments. “I was thinking,” Rose begins, shifting her legs beneath her on the floor, “we should go somewhere.”

“Oh, yeah?” He grins, “Not sure I’ve ever been there before. Where exactly is _somewhere_?”

She smiles, eyes crinkling around the corners as it stretches her beautiful lips. “The end.”

“The End?” he repeats slowly, frowning. “The end of what?”

She rolls her eyes like he’s asked her something daft, her thumb tracing the curve of his cheek. “The end of it all, of course. Or I guess you could call it the beginning if you want.” Her hand taps a beat against the cushion of the couch, and he flinches.

No. Not this. Anything but this.

“Rose,” he says now, swinging himself into a sitting position with his feet firmly on the ground. “You’re not making sense. What do you mean?”

Rose picks herself up off the ground, her knees falling into the empty space that surrounds his hips as her hands gently find the edges of his face. His breathing hitches slightly, his hands hesitantly resting on the denim of her thighs.

“What was it like to watch them burn?” Her breath ghosts across his cheek as she drops the weight of her body onto his. The feel of her pressed against his makes his head reel. “Could you hear their screams echo through your head one last time before it was all gone?”

“Rose, stop it. This isn’t you.”

She smiles again, but it’s not her own. Her lip unnaturally stretches across her teeth, and he knows this isn’t Rose. Not _his_ Rose.

“How lonely you must have been, Doctor. How quiet it must have been. Almost enough to drive you mad, I would think.” Her hand wraps around his neck, her fingers caught in the hair at the nape. And he hates that he should stop her because the sweet roll of her hips is oh so wrong. But he doesn’t want to. He’s longed for her touch for far too long. “Doctor,” she mumbles against his skin. “My Doctor.”

“Rose,” he chokes out as her lips brush his ear, “please don’t do this. Just be _you_.”

“But you’re not alone now,” she says more surely now, hands sliding to clutch the lapels of his suit. “I’m here. _Forever_.” Oh, how he wishes it were true. “Listen, listen. Can’t you hear it?”

His stomach clenches painfully, and his hands move up her arms as she drops deeper into his lap. Their foreheads rest against each other as her whole body moves against his. This was his escape. She was his escape. The one pure thing untouched about his mind, and now it’s slipping through his fingers.  
  
He knows the answer. He’s known all along, he thinks, but he’ll ask it anyway. “Hear what, Rose? What do you hear?”

“My head,” she moans softly, “is killing me. Make it stop, Doctor. Please make it stop.” 

“Make what stop?” he traps her face beneath his hands, holds her still as his fingers thread through the soft strands of her hair along her temple. “What do you hear, Rose?”

“The drums, Doctor,” she whispers, that cruel smile that shows the unforgiving sins of the universe tugging at her cheeks. “The Drums.”


End file.
